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@epiphanies-mindofapoet
Boxes didn’t intimidate me so I'd color outside their lines with a reckless abandon. To hope was to see a future with clarity; with a conviction that things won’t head south. Dreaming meant looking for something beyond the horizon without fear churning in the pit of my stomach. Being a kid meant having it all with unwavering confidence.
e.m.p // i want to be a kid again
There is a presence in this absence and it looms over her head- the weight of loss is tinted with memories threatening to revive and words that she could not bring to life. The world has ended within her yet the world around her continues to spins on its axis. What keeps on resurfacing cannot be buried and this abandoned love she has kept suppressed in her heart for so long will return, wearing the face of grief.
e.m.p // grief
This anger is an heirloom- a raging fire that could not be extinguished- so it has been passed down generations. I try to hold it in my chest only to discover that it has left a pulsating inferno in its wake. The words that leave my mouth are stained red and I can't make them crawl back down my throat. This anger is an unwanted heirloom that I am unable to get rid of.
e.m.p // write about an heirloom
National Poetry Month Prompts
April 2019
HOME 1. How it began 2. Hurt friends 3. Summer bathtub 4. Even darker 5. Burning leaves 6. Sea salt 7. To be sixteen again 8. Secret room 9. Newspaper clippings 10. Old fashioned 11. Ivory 12. Crimes from before 13. Ochre
*
POETIC FORMS WEEK 14. Ottava Rima 15. Heroic Couplet 16. Cinquain 17. Blank Verse 18. Epistle 19. Petrarchan Sonnet 20. Shakespearean Sonnet
*
ADVENTURES 21. Something glorious 22. Towards the Pacific 23. Museum 24. Grass crown 25. Medieval sword 26. Matterhorn 27. Gasoline 28. Something in the stars 29. Ghost youths 30. Long drive home
People exist until they exist only in memory.
e.m.p// fading // find me on instagram
Time isn't merciful. In moments when your entire world spins off its axis, time stands completely still, and you can do nothing but stand and stare as everything around you comes crashing down and slowly crumbles to dust. And in moments when you feel infinite- it passes by like a blur, like a person on a train watching his surroundings rush past him, unable to reach out and stop motion, even its for a single second.
e.m.p // time
When you write poetry do you try to make it rhyme or sound good too? Or do you just focus on writing what comes to you regardless if it rhymes?
mostly i try to make it rhyme because, in my head, poetry that rhymes just has this flow to it (sorry if that doesn’t make sense xD) but if rhyming doesn’t work out then i don’t force myself to do it and just write regardless of whether or not it rhymes
all these choices that we make leading up to alternating paths existing between moments that change who we are forever.
e.m.p // choices
aren’t we all sinners posing as saints?
e.m.p
forgetting may come to you quite easily but forgiveness is the price you have to pay to set your heart free
e.m.p
there are many versions of you existing in the same world and each time you meet someone new, you slip on your second face- masking who you really are behind a false facade. i painted a picture of you in my head little did i know that it was made up of false colours.
e.m.p // two faced
the world gives and takes, its the way it keeps an equilibrium. life leaves chaos in its wake, and we are often left trying to find our way in this labyrinth. the universe keeps everything in order in a way that is bittersweet and sometimes, we have to stand steadily on the ground to keep it from slipping from underneath our feet.
swallow the words that sit on the tip of your tongue keep them locked in your heart forever the silence will ring in your ears a little too loudly but it will all be for the better
all that was left unspoken
perhaps, we are waiting for audacity to spark in our veins and light an inferno.
e.m.p
and we drift away into false realities in-between worn out pages, as we relentlessly search for peace in a world of make-believe
epiphanies-mindofapoet < my secondary poetry blog (via wordsnquotes)
and we drift away into false realities in-between worn out pages, as we relentlessly search for peace in a world of make-believe
@epiphanies-mindofapoet// prompt by @sarahmariepardy : peace
as you walk in a field of withering dreams you look above and see a sky stained with endless possibilities and you realize that this courageous spirit of a dreamer that you possess will fade away itself before allowing you to abandon all the things that your heart yearns for
@epiphanies-mindofapoet // clinging to withering dreams
